Stalemate
by dear-lovely
Summary: It was official: Theodore Nott was stuck at a stalemate in this mental war with himself.


This story was written for the Sixth Round of the Seventh Season of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I'm writing as Beater 1 for the Tutshill Tornados.

Name of the round: **Much Ado About Shakespeare**

Prompt for Beater 1: _War._ **Write a fic set during a wizarding war (either one we know about or one of your own creation).**

These are the optional prompts I'm using:

9\. (dialogue) **"How are you okay with this? I can hardly believe it myself."**

14\. (character) **Theodore Nott**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. J.K. Rowling owns everything from the Harry Potter universe and WB owns the sneaky little Casablanca quote I've snuck in there.

WARNING: Slightly inaccurate information about World War II. Neither Blaise nor I are experts on the topic, so please bear that in mind.

Thanks to my team for betaing!

* * *

Title: **Stalemate**

Words: 1923

Theodore Nott was seventeen years old and scared _shitless_.

As he entered the Hogwarts Express with his trunk following him, he kept his head hanging low and his shoulders sagging downward to avoid causing any controversy. Yesterday's funeral for the late headmaster had drastically dampened the atmosphere; everyone was currently in a fragile state.

He didn't look up until he heard the sliding of a compartment door to his left, where he found himself at the back of the last coach facing Blaise Zabini. Wordlessly, Theo entered the compartment, placed his trunk on the luggage rack above, and slumped down on the seat underneath. Shortly after, the train departed from Hogsmeade.

The compartment was silent for the most part, except for the shuffling of cards on Blaise's part. While he studied his collection of Chocolate Frog cards, Theo was bent forward with his hands covering his head and his elbows piercing his knees, desperately racking his brain for solutions in regards to the war that officially began when Malfoy brought Death Eaters to Hogwarts.

For years, Theo's father constantly pressured him to follow in the footsteps of the Malfoy heir. Due to his reluctance of receiving the Dark Mark at the ripe age of sixteen, his father blamed him for everything substandard in their lives: how Theo was too average and too slow to become the Slytherin prefect, how their family wasn't as highly ranked as the Malfoys, how Draco was inducted into the Death Eater ranks at a higher place than Mr. Nott would ever be in, and so forth. Theo knew that if he further disappointed his father, he would most likely be disowned and cast off to the side as the Dark Lord continued to rise. On the other hand, if Theo _did_ join the ranks, he knew he would be downright miserable. It wasn't as if he didn't agree with the group's ideology, it's just that he thought the Dark Lord went too far at times and he didn't want to be a part of that.

It was official: Theo was stuck at a stalemate in this mental war with himself. Either he complies with his father's wishes and resigns himself to a life of depression, or he rebels against his father and loses everything he's ever had, which would also make him miserable.

Theo sighed as he leaned back into a more comfortable position and observed his acquaintance's movements. While he had been ruminating over every single possibility that could happen to him, Blaise had been relaxing against the window sill, quietly reading through his cards. They had known each other before they started Hogwarts, as it is common for children in high society to become acquainted with each other through private schooling. Although Theo spent more time with Blaise than any of his peers, he didn't consider him as an actual friend, and he suspected that Blaise felt the same way. But he knew that they were both in the same sticky situation, and he expected Blaise to feel more distressed than he looked.

Out of curiosity, Theo broke the silence. "Blaise, do you know what you'll do come next school year?"  
Blaise slowed as he moved the top card to the bottom of the deck. "No clue," he responded with a glance towards his colleague, then proceeded to turn his attention back to his cards.

"You do know that we're basically screwed, right?" Theo asked with a slightly raised voice.

"We're not screwed, Theo."

"Either we follow where our families' values align, which will probably get us killed, or we surrender ourselves to the people who detest us the most! It's a lose-lose situation."

With a hint of frustration, Blaise tucked his deck away and faced Theo's panic-stricken expression. "You're forgetting a third option, Theo. Haven't you ever heard of being Switzerland?"

Theo raised his eyebrow. "Switzerland? The country? Should we just move there to avoid this Hippogriff shite?" Theo spat sardonically.

"Obviously not, unless you want to be surrounded by chocolate and cheese all day long." Blaise paused, remembering to consider the other's background. "I forgot, you've never been exposed to Muggle history."

Theo scoffed, "And you have?"

"Remember in our third year when my mum was married to Mr. Jones?"

"That boring, passive-aggressive bastard? I wish I didn't…" Theo grumbled.

Blaise proceeded without acknowledging the previous comment. "Two of his greatest passions in life are Muggle war history and lecturing _about _Muggle war history. I had to endure hours of him droning on about the Magna Carta and the British Parliament and so forth. It was terrible at the time, but it intrigued me after his death. He left numerous history books and I delved into them, especially the ones about World War II."

Sighing dramatically, Theo flailed his body off his seat into a fetal position on the ground. "What does _any of this _have to do with our situation? I'm _dying_ here, Blaise!"

He rolled his eyes. "Stop being such a drama queen, Nott. Sit up and listen, it'll do you good."

Huffing, Theo returned to his seat across from the other wizard. "Fine. But if this Switzerland business doesn't benefit me in any way, then I'm throwing myself out the window."

"If you want the trolley witch to come after you, then by all means." Blaise extended his hand towards the window beside him, daring Theo. Instead, Theo sank further into his seat. Blaise continued, "Anyway, there were the Allies and Axis powers in World War II. Essentially, the Axis powers were notably known for the support of killing and imprisoning people of a certain religion, while the Allies opposed that. Switzerland, whose land had been violated by both sides, officially proclaimed itself as neutral ground."

"So you're saying…" Theo's eyes paced back and forth as the cogs in his mind were turning. "Is it wise to stay neutral? I mean, what would happen to us after the war's over?"

"If the Dark Lord defeats the other side, we can say that we helped with the cause in the background. They'd be more accepting of us because of our families' alignment and they would understand why we weren't so forthcoming. It's one of the great advantages of being Slytherins."

"And if the other side wins?" Theo pressed.

"Then we can attest that we did nothing to aid either side and we have our memories to support our word."

"But… how? Isn't it incredibly difficult to stay neutral? Especially since we're coming back next year with the Death Eaters in charge."

Blaise swiftly answered, "We will play it safe. No more bullying Mudbloods, no more sputtering out pureblood ideologies, and no more saying what our actual beliefs are—if we have any at this point. We will be the background characters, the people who nobody notices, and we will be guaranteed a much happier future."

"You're right about not knowing what to believe anymore, Blaise. And I do understand that staying neutral would be the wise choice for us in our position. But what would our families say? What would I do if my father suspects me and I'm pressured into deciding a path? It's plausible that my father could barge into my room at any moment and demand me to torture some innocent Muggle."

"Then you will cross that bridge when you get there." Blaise pondered for a moment, his fingers rhythmically tapping on his arm. "I think it would be wise if neither of us stays long at our respective homes," he suggested.

"So you're saying that the only way to get out of this war unscathed is to disappear from the narrative. I mean, how are you okay with this? I can hardly believe it myself." Theo stood up and paced in the small compartment. "That is _mad_. That is _absolutely mental_!"

Against his will, Blaise got up and gripped his hands on the other's shoulders. "Theo, seriously calm down. We will get through this. You just have to battle your inner instincts and face the fact that any other path in this war will seriously damage us. Hell, even this path might traumatize us forever. But at the very least, we'll know that no blood, sweat, or tears are maliciously caused by our hands. I'd rather live day-to-day _not_ feeling guilty by the way I've hurt others because I had to make this dumb decision. I'm seventeen, barely an adult! I should be thinking about fancying birds, not about if I'm going to die sometime in the next year. So what if I believe that blood status doesn't actually matter? I really don't want to die soon because of my personal views."

"So you're a blood traitor then, Zabini?"

Blaise paused to look at Theo's stunned face. He let go of his shoulders and explained himself. "Honestly? I couldn't give a rat's arse about the blood status of someone's parents. Why should I? I've no idea who my father is, much less his blood status. For all I know, he could be a bloody Muggle!" He tore his eyes away and stared at the ground. "Mum's reassured me time and time again that I'm a pureblood, but I've witnessed the way she goes in and out of the house with different men on her arm every time. Plus, I know for a fact that there aren't _that_ many pureblooded men left in our part of the world. She sleeps with anybody that _breathes_, so yes, I don't really care about blood status."

Theo was silent for a moment, studying his friend like he was a new scientific discovery. Throughout the years of knowing the wizard, Theo never considered that Blaise might've felt that way about his unknown parentage. Because Theo knew Mrs. Zabini well enough through attending many high society events over the years, he just always assumed that, because of the way she held herself, she would hold the men she brought to bed to a high standard.

And as Theo thought about it further, he realized that this might be the first _real_ conversation he has ever had with Blaise. "It's absolutely terrifying if you put it that way," he relented. "I've never thought about your situation in that manner."

Blaise halfheartedly laughed. "Yeah, well I guess it _is_ a unique position to be in. I think we both just got used to it."

"And look at me, complaining about my coward of a father. Even though he has no backbone to speak of, he's still there for my family. In his own, terrible way, of course." Theo joked, and Blaise smiled in return.

"Not to be insensitive, but _thank bloody Merlin_ that I don't have a father as shitty as yours. I wouldn't know what to do with myself." Blaise lightheartedly confessed, to which Theo responded with a slap to his shoulder. "Enough about this serious shite, let me get back to my cards."

With a broad smile on his face, Theo put his hands in the air as a sign of surrender. "Okay, alright. As you wish."

Several hours later, the Hogwarts Express entered Platform 9 ¾. As most students were exiting the train, the boys hurried to collect their belongings and were the last ones to get off. Before Disapparating away from the almost empty terminal, Theo nudged Blaise's arm. "Blaise, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Blaise smirked and punched him lightly in return. "Oh shut up, you drama queen."

Theo laughed as he whisked away into thin air.


End file.
